Dusk had fallen and the sky was painted with varying shades of red, orange, and purple. Even the faint glow of the evening’s first stars could be seen. Or rather they would have been able to be seen if it wasn’t for the ominous and billowing black smoke rising in the distance. A fire had been started, though this was no normal fire. The stench of burning flesh and death that had become intertwined with the early August breeze had insured this.

Something was definitely wrong. One needn’t be a Grey Warden to figure that out.

It was a Keeper’s job to protect her clan, her family, from the world. To remember the Old Ways and never forget; to never leave a clans mate behind.

[i]She had failed.[/i]

Standing amongst the flickering fire and burning dead stood an elf woman with hair the color of dried wheat and clad in buckskins. Velanna, First of her clan, with flesh seared from an Emissary’s well-timed spell, would not move. She [b]would not[/b] fail Seranni. From all around her she could hear the guttural laughter and screeches of the blighted monsters. They were mocking her, toying with her even. She had made her sister hide as well as she could. As long as she was out of the darkspawn’s line of sight she would safe. By the Creators’ will she would remain that way.

“Ar tu na'din!” Velanna shouted though she highly doubted they understood her threat. No matter, as long as she remained they would not take Seranni. She failed the others, but she wouldn’t fail her.

[i]Carys, Braith, Deryn, even Eluned.[i]

Their bodies, bloody and broken, lay before her. Creators they had tried to help her, tried to fight. Why hadn’t they run when she told them to? If they just had listened! Maybe… No, she couldn’t dwell on this now. There would be a time later to mourn the loss of her friends. Velanna just had to make it out of this battle alive. And in truth, she was starting to doubt that she even would live through this. She was scared. Terrified even, but she wouldn’t let anyone, not Seranni, not the darkspawn see her fear.

Still, she fought on; weaving magic like Braith had once woven his words. Fire, ice, even the very roots of the earth answered her call, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her spell casting up much longer. Velanna’s mana pool was drying up. And soon she would be nothing more than a Dalish with a rather large stick to the darkspawn.

In all this dusk fall was starting to look very, very bad.